


homeostasis + transistasis

by qmisato



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Multi, Pre-OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 10,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3081338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qmisato/pseuds/qmisato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>who needs enemies with friends like these?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 8tracks Accompaniment Available: http://8tracks.com/gynoid/homeostasis-transistatis

 

Homeostasis and transistasis.

One is a force for the status quo, and the other’s a force for change.

We have both of these conflicting qualities at the same time.

 

* * *

 

** Tokyo-2 University Library, Nagano Prefecture, June 25th, 2005 **

Ritsuko Akagi was having a bad day today.

She’d had a bad day yesterday, too.

And the day before yesterday. And the day before that. Not to put too fine of a point on it, but it hadn’t been a great week, and tomorrow wasn’t looking promising.

An outsider mindful of her current situation would have rationalized that since she was an undergraduate student at a prestigious University just five years following a recent global cataclysm commonly known as The Second Impact, she had plenty of reason to be unhappy. But that was an issue that she had learned to deal with years ago.

It wasn’t due to the mother of all paperwork piles currently residing at her dormroom, either. Rather, that was an almost welcome constant. Ritsuko couldn’t find anything more ordinary and everlasting than massive amounts of paperwork. If she really thought about it, it was the closest thing she had to a pet — it grew like any other living thing, after all, and she watched the way its internal layers shifted and slid in an alien form of inanimate biology with a great deal of interest. No matter how much of it she tackled, the heap remained at a fixed level, never changing in size, mass, or ability to loom threateningly.

She was rather fond of it, actually.

No, Ritsuko’s present mood was something more out of the ordinary. It stemmed from something new, something unexpected, and something perplexing—

"Yo, Rit-chan!"

—Almost to a fault.

Ritsuko exhaled noisily as she turned to face half of the blame for her present mood. She didn’t know what he thought he was doing using that nickname for her of all people, but she’d have to regulate it to a minor issue for now. “…Ryoji.”

Kaji wore an suitably carefree expression as he approached her, his usual brandish in full tilt and maximum volume. “How’s it hanging?”

"It’s not," she replied evenly. “‘It’s working. Hard. Unlike you, it seems."

"Hey, now," he protested good-naturedly, pulling out a seat from an occupied table, "I was gathering valuable cultural information over at the east side of campus."

"You were visiting the bar," she interpreted.

"Oh, so that’s what they call it here? Don’t worry, I didn’t leave with empty pockets."

"You’d be amazed how many people refrain from doing so on a regular basis," she pointed out, unable to help herself.

"Well, you’d be amazed how often that doesn’t seem to work for me."

Katsuragi Misato’s boyfriend was, Ritsuko had earlier decided, an extremely strange individual. The way he strutted about, his rather forward presence, his blithe and frivolous demeanor… quite frankly, it was easy to write him off as another immature asshole. Yet, Ritsuko had been in his company long enough to notice a few other things about him, various impressions that she suspected even Misato had failed to pick up.

Most obvious was the fact that he was hiding something. Hiding a lot of somethings, which was an entirely different issue altogether. Ritsuko herself certainly had some talents she wisely kept under wraps, but it was hardly to such a stark degree that anyone would dare question the legitimacy of her being here.

In contrast, Kaji Ryoji displayed no such inclinations, to the point where Ritsuko seriously began toying with thoughts of  _genius eccentric_  and  _child prodigy_. It was a hard pill to swallow, but not as hard as the shock Ryoji had hit her with during their shared Information Securities class. Seeing someone purposely fail a test was one thing, but taking a meddling peek at their study guide only to realize they knew all the right answers in the first place was another Thing with a capital T. And as good of a people-reader Ritsuko thought she was, it was obvious that she needed to pay careful mind to the details.

Which Ryoji also seemed capable of doing, considering that he’d been privy to a slew of information about her mother’s work before she could finish the last syllable of  _Gehrin_. To complicate matters even further, both Misato and her knew next to nothing about him, neglecting his somewhat suspicious lifestory. And in retrospect, more than half of the details about his life before college had been supplied by Ritsuko herself, with Ryoji drawing them out and merely elaborating on what she’d thought was likely.

"You alright?" Ryoji inquired innocently.

And now she was reduced to thinking he was an ubernational spy-undercover positioned to destroy the very fabric of this University, Ritsuko reflected irritably. “I’m fine.”

"Bad news on the grades front, right?"

She blinked, briefly taken aback. “Were you—”

"—Spying on you? No. But, if I were you, that’d be the first thing I would check whenever I opened my laptop. And you had a ‘bad news’ look on your face before I even got your attention. So…" a pause as Kaji reached over to pull a pack of cigarettes from his backpack – which wasn’t so much a backpack, but a ratty, oft-trampled napsack that held more parking ticket violations than anyone could care to count. Ritsuko took a moment to fix the ‘No Smoking’ sign with a look that seemed to convey an apology on his behalf. "…the workload isn’t getting any better, is it?"

"It’s school. It never gets better, just over."

Ryoji’s face took on a thoughtful look. “Interesting. Cigarette?”

Ritsuko took in the proffered cigarette with insult. By this point, the expression on her face had progressed from ‘exasperated’ to ‘stunned’.  “You’re not going to last long with an attitude like that.”

"You’re the one who sounded like you wanted to be kicked out sooner rather than later."

Annoyingly enough, he was right.


	2. Chapter 2

_~~And I dreamed I saw the bomber jet planes riding shotgun in the sky / Turning into butterflies above our nation!~~ _

See, Professor Ueda? My English is great.

I heard something funny the other day. I hope you understand that it’s no one’s fault except my own. I’m probably running away from the least of my problems, but everything here is a reminder of what he can’t have.

Sorry. I know I’m not going to last long. But that’s what I’ve always wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

** Dr. Akagi’s Office, NERV HQ, October 27th, 2015 **

There was a certain kind of person who slunk around in the shadows, behind the veil of obscurity, only ambushing the enemy’s exposed flank when it was absolutely safe to do so, refusing to accept the risk of open confrontation, lest they get caught, or worse. These people were called spies and saboteurs, or in Ritsuko’s humble opinion, cowards.

There was another kind of person who’s behavior was much the same, except the shadows they chose to creep in were directly within the comforts of the enemy’s headquarters. While these people were also called spies and saboteurs, Ritsuko would – grudgingly – withhold the title of ’coward’ from them.

And then there was the third kind of person, a derivative of the second. This particular person, once they had snuck into the enemy’s headquarters, would proceed to talk the ear off everyone within their immediate vicinity, in such a way specifically engineered to keep people from second guessing their intentions. And then, they would proceed to spit in the collective face of their enemy – and get away with it. Repeatedly. Ritsuko called this person ‘Kaji Ryoji’, and knew for a fact that he would do all the above without even bothering to don a disguise…

…Almost imperceptibly, Ritsuko’s features suddenly tightened, though her eyes remained closed. “Ryo-chan.”

Standing in the doorway, half a dozen paces in front of her, Kaji smiled approvingly, crossing the remainder of the distance in a less discreet fashion. Ritsuko could hear the nearby rattle of a vending-machine-chilled UCC can.

"Oh— what’s this?" Kaji’s voice was infused with a sort of affected incredulity as he rested his elbows on her desk, with all the decorum that did far in implying " _you’re only as much my coworker as I let you be_ ”. It was actually easier to hear how theatrical he was being when you didn’t have to look at him. “Are you meditating? How long has it been?”

"An hour. Maybe two."

"And you’re still using one of those ridiculous Burmese positions, I see."

"They’re not ridiculous, Ryoji. They’re… time-honored, traditional positions, used by countless generations of people."

"I certainly don’t doubt that. Countless generations of people have been trying to solve the mysteries of life while crossing their legs into a pretzel."

"Yes, well—" Ritsuko cut herself off before she could explain herself any deeper into hole. This all-too-familiar hole. "I suppose you know a better way?"

"Well…" Kaji palmed his stubble before he turned a chair around backwards, sitting down heavily with his arms folded over the chair’s back. "If I have any serious meditation to do, I prefer the ‘Armchair’ position, myself. The ‘Ice Cream Sundae’ position is nice, too. Of course, that’s only if there isn’t a good masseuse around."

"You… can’t be serious."

"And I understand Katsuragi gets good results using the ‘Couch with Cold Beer’ position," Kaji added helpfully.

Sometimes, Ritsuko wondered why she bothered trying to defend her opinions against Ryoji. She was half-way convinced somewhere, buried deep within the Kaji DNA structure, there was an ‘Accidental Insight’ gene, right next to the ‘Insufferable Wit’ one. And you either accepted it and tried to make it work for you, or drove yourself mad trying to beat it. In college, Ritsuko had wisely done the former, letting Kaji get away with saying or doing anything no matter how ill-advised or fool-brained, secure in the knowledge that they were still young and relatively inexperienced in the matters of life. Now…

…Oh, he did have a point, damn him. Ritsuko began the motions of uncrossing her legs. ”There’s this problem that’s been bothering me lately. I was hoping this would help me think a little bit clearer.”

"Then by all means, don’t let me stop you. But make sure your focus isn’t turned so inwards that you don’t realize the proper time for action."

"And how does one identify the proper time for action,  _Sensei?_ " she inquired lightly, doing a fairly successful job of keeping the exasperation out of her voice. Not successfully enough, since Kaji’s expression was a classic sort, except that in his case, the cat had not only eaten the canary, it had seasoned and grilled it first.

"By taking action, of course. And finding out afterwards whether it was the right time or not."

And as for  _Ritsuko’s_  expression, well, it most likely would have curdled milk. “That’s circular reasoning. Sensei.”

"Oh, but you’re wrong there. It’s a student wanting to know how the water is, without testing it out for themselves."

"It is a student seeing if anyone else has already found out for themselves."

"It’s a student looking for certainties, when they don’t exist."

"It is a student attempting to increase her odds of success, except her ‘friend’ is too stingy with his ‘wisdom’."

"It’s a student assuming that her friend knows all the answers."

"It is a student making that assumption based on past experience."

Kaji actually had the nerve to pout. “But your friend has already given you the answer.”

Lesser mortals would have fled from Ritsuko’s expression by this point, though there was the faintest, most imperceivable hint of amusement threatening to mar her face.

"Well then, thank you for sharing your wisdom, Sensei. Now, please take your hands off those BALTHASAR reports. Did I fail to mention this problem concerned whether or not I should report my friend for the last time he decided to play highway robber in Maya’s office?"


	4. Chapter 4

Why?

Why do I always have to go and ruin everything? Why can’t you just say it to my face? Just tell me you don’t like it anymore! That’s all I want!

I’m tired of pretending I don’t see it!

I guess the sooner I get it over with, the better.


	5. Chapter 5

** Tokyo-2 University Campus Apartments, Nagano Prefecture, October 27th, 2005 **

Nothing could instill a kind of tired sense of well-being and lethargy quite like Misato and Ryoji’s shared apartment.

Ritsuko could almost feel her initiative being drained away simply upon entering. Everything, to the peaceable mountains of dirtied clothes or the assorted array of dying houseplants, seemed to suggest an amiable, glassy-eyed semi-sober state of non-confrontational complacency. Maybe it was the smell in the air that did it, a pacifying mix of old dryer lint and cigarette butts and car magazine subscriptions and stain removal.

And of course, alcohol in endless supply seemed to come with the territory as easily as laziness did.  _Especially_  now.

He ran away. Left. Disappeared without so much as a notice or warning. Misato had cried herself to sleep not too long after Ritsuko arrived, which provided her ample time to think about the proper way to go about damage control. No member of the Akagi family was particularly suited to pursue occupational therapy as a potential career path, probably to the benefit of the rest of the world’s mentally ill. How does one make progress when your subject fluctuated between periods of incessant conversation and eerie silence? Katsuragi Misato, it seemed, knew no happy mediums, only polar extremes. It reminded her of Ryoji’s own contradictions, which was probably a testament to how they stumbled their way into each other’s lives in the first place.

Ritsuko legs were beginning to cramp from her position on the floor, but Misato’s head on her knees prevented her from doing anything about it.

 _Polar and nonpolar magnetic forces. The magnetic forces edge closer to one another near the poles, but are widely separated in other places–_  

"Ritsuko?"

Ritsuko’s brows leveled as her train of thought was interrupted. “I thought you were asleep.”

"Did Kaji-kun tell you anything secret?" Misato whispered quietly.

"What?"

"I remember hearing you guys talking in the bathroom a few days ago… did he say anything weird to you?"

Ritsuko was quiet for a moment, unsure if she liked the question, or the potential answers. Yes, Kaji did tell her things. They had barely known each other for five months before the dynamics of their acquaintanceship had dramatically changed. That Ryoji and her had grown to become friends had never been up for question (discounting some of their more intense debates on what exactly constitutes  _academic dishonesty_ , for one), but it had still been a jarring surprise to discover how wrong she had been about many of her first impressions… 

…or, to put the matter less delicately, it had involved Ryoji completely failing to maintain his bluff during one night of heavy drinking. All the while, Ritsuko had attempted to provide a measure of comfort through copious amounts of rolled up toilet paper… and needless to say, the entire event went unnoticed by one Misato, who had drank herself to the floor moments before.

It had taken some time for the dust to settle, the tears to clear, and both to collect their wits over the situation. It had been a bizarre – if not  _awkward_  – experience for Ritsuko, but despite her shock, the first words out of her mouth had been to tell him that if he wanted to keep it between the two of them, she would be more than amiable to the agreement.

In the end, between Ryoji’s adamant request not to speak on it further, and Ritsuko’s equally adamant refusal to say anything, they had arrived at a compromise of sorts. It was strange, each of them providing the opportunity to either offer more help, or accept less. But along with it, there also came a certain feeling of responsibility, a strengthening of an implicit understanding that had developed between them…

"Well, that depends on your definition," Ritsuko pointed out, shifting a lock of Misato’s hair that was presently sticking to a wad of dried snot collecting under her nose.

"If it has to do with me…"

"It’s not that," Ritsuko replied firmly.

_'…You don’t even want it after a week. It’s like your body gives up and stops asking for it. I could watch the guards eat and not even feel a little bit jealous. And then after two weeks, you could sleep on someone else’s piss-stained sheets and not even care…'_

"Then what is it?" Misato persisted.

_'…he was gone. He turned into a monster, someone who’d stab another kid for a can of tomato sauce, who's seen other kids die, who's had blood on his hands… who's killed other kids. And it’s not like I could stop him, because what would’ve that made me…'_

"To be frank, it’s hard to explain without simply telling you what he said."

 _'…it’s like someone jumping from a burning building. They might be scared of falling, but they’re even more terrified of the flames behind them. Suddenly, jumping becomes the lesser evil, right? It’s not like anyone would understand if they haven’t killed someone. But when they figured out what I was trying to do, they locked the cabinet…'_  

"Geez, Ritsuko. If you don’t want to tell me, just say so."

_'…if it makes her happy, I can’t make up an excuse every night. I can get by with pretending. Katsuragi doesn’t even notice. And it’s only with her that I can feel something anyway…'_

"…Misato, it’s nothing important. I promise you that."

The dead silence that followed reeked of a snub, until Misato finally sighed, stretching herself out further on the floor and burrowing her fists deeply into the pockets of shorts. “You know…” she murmured, her voice marked by soreness over the matter. “This isn’t the first time he ran away like this.”

_Yes, I know. The first time, he called me asking for 1,200 yen._

"Is that right? I… never would have guessed."

"Yeah." Misato flipped on her stomach, wincing slightly. Ritsuko surmised that it was probably a day’s time since she’d last eaten something that can qualify as actual food. "What about you, Ritsuko? Are you hiding anything from me?"

Ritsuko kept her expression carefully in check, having no trouble hearing the more suspicious undertones behind the question. And perhaps it was warranted. After all, despite the rapport that had developed between them, they had only known each other for a few hectic months. To damage that understanding, when there was already  _this_  present issue to be dealt with, could jeopardize their friendship forever. And if Ritsuko learned anything at all from University, it was that you did  _not_  want to find yourself caught between Misato’s crosshairs.

Second-hand experience taught her that much. “If anything, it’s how much you’ve been tiring me lately,” Ritsuko finally retorted, though her voice lacked any edge. “I was expecting to get at least a half night’s sleep today… now, I know better.”

Misato managed a ghost of a smile, even though it was sad. “You guys never tell me anything. That costs me sleep, too.”

Ritsuko finally pulled her legs out from under the weight of Misato’s head, wearing an expression that was positively cherubic in nature. Possibly even seraphic. It was just  _that_  innocent.

"You lose sleep because you don’t know my problems, Misato. I lose sleep because I help you fix yours. I think that leaves  _you_  with the better part of the bargain.”


	6. Chapter 6

He came back after eight days. A new record for him. Apparently, he lost his keys, which was sufficient enough explanation for why he crawled in through the window of all places, looking like he had been shipwrecked for a year, covered in dirt and grime and various blemishes around his neck that I had enough mind not to question him about. Nonetheless, I was surprised how easily he relegated my pillow and sleeping bag to an accepted and welcome fact of life.  
  
I helped him put on makeup to cover the bruises. Misato wasn’t awake, not yet. I told him she’d be very happy to see he wasn’t lying face-flat in a ditch somewhere. He told me if that was the case, I’d probably be needing my headphones. What he didn’t know is that I had brought my entire  _Kamaitachi_  CD collection for this very occasion.  
  
"Happy" was me understating the matter to an obscene degree.


	7. Chapter 7

** Katsuragi Misato’s Apartment, September 30th, 2015 **

"Alright, I’m here," Ritsuko announced, even as she strode purposefully into Misato’s dining room. "So all plotters and conspirators… cease and desist.  _Immediately_.”

Two wide-eyed, innocent expressions met her expecting stare, until she gave up and took the last seat for her own. Looking at the meal prepared for her, Ritsuko renewed the stare triplefold. “And somebody is trying to fatten me up again, I see.”

"After another night shift?" Kaji inquired. "You still have the smallest plate. And I can’t have any friend of mine starving to death."

Ritsuko rolled her eyes. It was an old argument.

With any “get-together” that included Misato Katsuragi and Ryoji Kaji came a special caveat – food. And lots of it. On the list of common terms that were completely foreign to these two, the idea of ‘leftovers’ and ‘dieting’ were quite high up. To put it another way, there were sumo wrestlers that ate less than Misato did. And there were sumo wrestling  _teams_  that ate less than people like Kaji. By now, Ritsuko had learned to interpret the expression ‘I could eat a horse’ as a declaration of intent. She wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the nearest restaurants offered in-house financing under any one of their surnames.

"In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a particularly dynamic job," Ritsuko pointed out, not for the first time. "I’m not working against my body’s metabolism like some people are."

"How do you know that?" Misato inquired, from behind her own personal Field of Nourishment. "Maybe your metabolism’s just wasting away bit by bit, instead of actually working on your body. In which case you  _do_  need to eat more.”

"And you could stand to get a little more fat on you," Kaji interjected promptly. His own plate could be mistaken for an aerial view of a plantation beside a sprawling ranch. Nearby, the Omachi Dam waited, ready to provide liquid sustenance on demand.

"And I was probably taller than you when I was nine," Misato added.

"And I’m telling you both," Ritsuko insisted, "a doctor would know best. And you’re barely an millimeter taller than me, Misato, and you know it. Speaking of which, I also noticed nobody bothered to get me extra coffee to go with the extra food."

“ _That’s_  what does it,” Kaji insisted. “That blend of yours? It’s no wonder you’re never sick. It probably kills any germs on contact.”

"I won’t hear any slander towards my special blend from someone who drinks coffee from a can. And for the two people with the biggest servings, you don’t seem to be any hurry to start eating."

 

* * *

 

The trouble with these aforementioned get-togethers was that they never were a quiet affair by any definition of the term. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in and of itself – Ritsuko certainly had her fair share of ear-splitting conversations and arguments back in college – but in this particular case, Misato was well equipped with a laundry list of grievances that she felt Needed Answering. Today. And since Ryoji and her were both guests at a party for an individual saddled with an off-the-scale Type-A personality, neither one of them were in any position to let her down nicely.

"Well?" Misato inquired, having redefined the use of her chopsticks in favor of pointing it directly at their faces. Anyone else in the universe would have earned some harsh language for making such a blatantly insensitive move, but Ryoji was at the end of this particular interrogation, which rendered that option null and void. "Ritsuko did mention what we talked about, right? You two had a similar discussion at some point,  _right_?”

"…Maybe."

"Ritsuko, tell this idiot to start talking."

An request with multiple levels, depending on how aware you were of past events. Ritsuko couldn’t quite hide her smile, having long ago learned to avoid knee-jerk reactions to Misato’s demands. The trick was to figure out what else was being demanded at the same time. “Poor Misato. Is Kaji-kun hiding things again?”

"All. The time."

"Yeh now—," Kaji picked up, swallowing the last of his mouthful, "—I’d tell her if I thought she couldn’t figure it out by herself."

"…"

"Looks like you’re frustrating her, Ryo-chan."

"She works better under pressure, Rit-chan."

"…"

"True, she does. But maybe you should consider giving her something to work with?"

"And what would that be?"

"Perhaps…" Ritsuko’s expression was that of someone reviewing a mental checklist. "You could consent to answer a question with only a minimal amount of ambiguity. But only one question."

"Hm," Kaji agreed sagely. "But Katsuragi does have a  _lot_  of questions. To only be given only one…”

"…"

"She’ll definitely have to make it count, won’t she?"

"Right. This should be interesting."

"What is this?" Misato finally muttered. "Good Sensei, Bad Sensei?"

"Is that your question?"

Misato didn’t dignify the retort with a response.

"—Go on."

"My question…" Ritsuko watched as Misato took another long swing of her beer — her third one since the party started. It was always important to note these things. "My question is… to the best of your knowledge –  _in clear and concise detail_  –  if I can expect a raise next week on behalf of this new promotion.”

There was a moment of pregnant silence from the other two occupants of the room as they exchanged long glances with each other.

"Not too bad," Kaji finally allowed.

"Unexpected," Ritsuko agreed. "But reasonable."


	8. Chapter 8

They’re trying to keep me in the dark about something.  
  
I just know it. Sometimes, I’d walk down the hall and see them both snap their mouths shut as soon as they notice I’m within hearing distance. Do they think they can get smart with me? As if I wouldn’t notice! What the hell are they hiding? Does it have to do with NERV? Shinji-kun? Commander Ikari?  
  
Me?  
  
Are they talking about me?  
  
Why are they treating me like this? Like a child?


	9. Chapter 9

** Shibuya Bar, November 21th, 2006 **

"Just a glass."

"I told you two, I don’t drink."

"A single glass," Misato insisted, nudging a glass of… something towards Ritsuko.

It was alcoholic, that much was definite. The bottle was tall, wide, and delicate-looking, and managed to suggest that its contents were either criminal or criminally priced. To make matters worse, Ritsuko had a sneaking suspicion Kaji had stolen it from the liquor store across from the apartment complex. The liquid had demonstrated a syrupy quality while being poured, and was presently waxing through the colors of the red-orange spectrum as the overhead lights shone through it. Stuff that looked like it belonged inside machinery, Ritsuko had always felt.

"I’ll have a can of soda," she insisted.

"The gods of favor and fortune wag their finger on the use of soda in celebration."

"…Ryoji, how you said that with a straight face, I’ll never know."

"Hey, Kaji-kun has a point. You need to loosen up," was Misato’s impatient – not to mention  _loud_  – opinion on the matter. “It’s your 21st birthday, Ritsuko – in America, you’d be keg standing by now! And if you need any more reason to celebrate, we all passed our midterms! A miracle, if you really think about it…”

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Ritsuko allowed dryly. Obviously, the image of her doing a keg stand didn’t go unnoticed by Kaji, whose present expression was that of someone inwardly reliving the funniest comedy skit of all time. "Even though things certainly could have ended up for the worst. And I’m glad that you two haven’t completely destroyed what’s left of my academic career."

"So," Misato concluded, nudging the glass closer, "a toast is obviously in order."

Surrender. “Fine. One glass. For the toast.”

Kaji made a face as Misato eagerly placed the drink in Ritsuko’s hands. “Think about it as payback for sampling your coffee, Rit-chan.”

Ritsuko rolled her eyes, carefully holding the fragile glass between her finger and thumb. “You’re still bitter about that?”

"Nowhere near as bitter as your coffee, that’s for sure.”

"My coffee stands on its own merits."

"And the spoon actually stands up in your coffee. Anyway, this wine is really great. I won’t bore you with the details, but getting it was a real… well,  _hassle_.”

Misato deftly interjected before Ritsuko could say anything on that particular detail, but not before Ritsuko’s lips had already pursed into a thin, subtly-judgey line. “—Er, a toast then,” Misato blurted, raising her glass obligingly. “To more happy birthdays. And the continued success of a mutually beneficial friendship, of course.”

Kaji and Ritsuko did likewise. “Despite all obstacles.”

All three drained their glasses in one swallow, Ritsuko discovering that the drink went down almost too smoothly for words. A texture that bordered on pulpy, with just a touch of sugar. For an instant, a faint burning sensation in her throat suggested that the liquor was skipping the digestive process and entering her bloodstream directly, but it passed just as soon as it came, leaving no bitter aftertaste to ruin her taste buds’ memory.

"…very good," Ritsuko admitted, knowing she’d get a round of smug looks for the confession.

It wasn’t a consolidation lie, either. The wine was so good, in fact, that by the time anyone knew what was happening, Ritsuko had already downed five glasses, and life was absolutely, positively  _peachy_ … and maybe a little dizzying, but that was probably just her glasses. She  _really_  needed a new pair…

She didn’t know how many minutes had passed. Forty? Fifty? Two hours?

"And if I’m lucky," she could hear Misato’s drunken complaining, which had to count for something, at the very least, "maybe that will get Keiko to drop that damn superiority complex she has! What kind of person receives all those Get Well gifts, without even writing a single ‘Thank You’ card back? And the whole time we were with her, she never ONCE mentioned that whole allergic to eggwhites thing! We go out of our way to cook, and THAT’S the thanks I get? I might just take a piece out on her myself!!"

"I get where you’re coming from," Kaji was saying, "but Katsuragi, she  _was_  in a full body cast, so that can be considered water under—”

Like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut, but with slightly less fanfare, Ritsuko slumped forwards onto the table.

"—the bridge. Rit-chan?"

No response.

"Ritsuko? You okay?" Misato’s voice.  _Did they always have to be so loud?_

A sigh, laced with some hesitation. Ritsuko often wondered how Misato turned binge drinking into a recreational sport, but like so many other things, she supposed she could only chalk it up to the irrefutable differences in personal philosophies between herself and her best friend.

"I think… I’m going to need some help getting home."


	10. Chapter 10

How can I help you if I can’t even help myself? 

You deserve a place in this world 

more so than that menace sitting on his throne. 

No one else is going to get you out. The people you surround yourself with are buying some stock in your demise  

Whether I’m there to see it or not 

You know I can’t make do with any of the options I’ll give you 

But isn’t it the thought that counts?


	11. Chapter 11

** Nagano Matsushiro General Hospital, October 31th, 2015 **

She supposed she should be dead.

The twisted metal wreckage was smoldering in cratered, burning earth; dozens of people were carving red tunnels around her, splitting trees and hauling debris in fine brutal art. Blood dripped from her nose, drying over her chin. The smell of conflagrated wood choked what remained of her shattered senses.

"—Ah, you’re waking up."

 _Waking up?_  Ritsuko groaned as a slew of recent memories were brought to her attention.

Arriving at the Matsushiro Experiment Facility. Unit-03’s initialization sequence. High energy readings during the synchronization start-up, one after the other. Pattern analysis blue. Unit-03 severing the circuit cables. Maintenance making their hasty retreat. An ear-deafening explosion, mere moments before they could abort the test. A blinding pain in her shoulder, coupled with a sudden lack of responsiveness from the limb. Finally passing out from the pain…

"Take it easy," a voice instructed, deep but familiar. She knew this voice. She’d known it for a long time, even before all of this. She didn’t entirely trust it, but it didn’t frighten her. She tuned into it like a lifeline, trying to drag herself away from the creeping oblivion that thought to consume her. "You’re still weak."

"W-what’s…" Ritsuko swallowed, almost painfully. She would have at least maimed for a glass of water at the moment. And her left shoulder burned in a way that shouldn’t be physically possible, as though it had been dipped in hydrofluoric acid. "…going on?"

There was period of hesitation after the question. “….Not now. Just rest.”

The portions of Ritsuko’s rational mind insisted otherwise, but her body had other ideas. So she took the voice’s advice, and rested.

 

* * *

 

When Ritsuko woke up next, her body seemed more willing to respond to her commands. To be clear, it provided an abundance of pain to go with that obedience, but that was something she could deal with. Any capable doctor understood that pain was a minor complication compared to what could happen. If nothing else, Ritsuko had quite recently expected to be spared with a gaping hole in her shoulder. Clearly some drastic intervention had occurred while she was unconscious.

Her eyes seemed to be doing their job as well, giving her a slightly better picture than the glaring brown hazes from before. She was on her back, obviously enough, looking up at a rather plain white ceiling. Several orbs of light were suspended downwards, but without any pulsing or flickering in their output.

The air was sanitized. Devoid of the usual traces of civilization. No food, no plants… just sterile.

"Rit-chan."

Right, then, she thought, it was familiar. Gritting her teeth, Ritsuko forced her arms to lift her body up, only to be rewarded by a spasm of pain from her left shoulder, severe enough make stars appears in her vision. Hissing a few colorful phrases, she collapsed again, but felt a pair of hands carefully catch her, one placed at the small of her back, the other at the base of her neck, both mercifully sparing her arm.

Gingerly turning her head, she finally had a chance to look at him. Ritsuko weathered Kaji’s accusing stare silently, her expression neither confrontational nor apologetic. She registered her gun where it rested in a foreign-looking holster on a desk – under any other circumstance, she would’ve had the mind to scoff. Whereas Misato would have resorted to ‘brute force’ as a means of facilitating arguments, Ritsuko would never consider bluffing with it to be an option.

Unfortunately, the chances of initiating a diplomatic approach were slim to none, thanks to the event that must have transpired merely hours before. Like it or not, Ritsuko knew that she couldn’t help but be associated in some fashion – by this point, Kaji would judge that any event directly or indirectly aiding Commander Ikari must have her own rubber stamp on it by extension of logic. Any attempts to proclaim her own peaceful intentions would sound weak, probably doing more harm than good. On top of that, the intensity of Kaji’s glare indicated that he  _thought_  he knew exactly who was responsible in the first place.

"This was… unexpected," Ritsuko muttered in greeting.

"It was," Kaji agreed. "For those thrown into the middle of it, and those left with the repercussions."

"I would think there would be rules in place limiting visitation."

"With every rule comes a loophole and an exception. Wasn’t enough damage caused the first time?"

_Here it comes._

Ritsuko frowned, Kaji’s somewhat unsubtle segue spurring a series of related scenarios, with one standing out over the others. Well, one that he would know about, anyway.

"The first time, unforeseen circumstances brought on the risk." The following pause indicated that they both hadn’t forgotten who the “unforeseen circumstance” was –- probably resting in the room down from hers, Ritsuko guessed inwardly. "This time, I knew nothing about it. This isn’t Jet Alone, Ryoji. Believe me or not, it’s up to you.”

Kaji’s tone held both skepticism and tacit acceptance over Ritsuko’s disinclination to go into further detail. “I didn’t come here to fight you.”

 _Maybe not_ , Ritsuko returned silently,  _but you **did**  barge into my room – in your uniform, no less – wearing an expression that certainly didn’t do you any favors in communicating peace._ He probably hadn’t realized how angry he looked. Years of trying to answer impossible questions could do that to a person, as she well knew. You started to unwittingly welcome the distractions and diversions that made themselves known, because they offered the possibility of tangible solutions.

"…Of course not."

There was a moment of awkward silence. As expected, the pain in Ritsuko’s shoulder had progressed to a dull numbness since regaining consciousness – she wasn’t complaining. For an brief instant, she wondered if Kaji had anything better to do with his time than stare at the ceiling with an unreadable expression, but that thought was thereupon quenched as soon as he opened his mouth.

"This is a turning point," Kaji started, his voice flat and gruff, devoid of the bright, casual overtones it normally possessed. "There won’t be a better time to change course going forward. I’m trying my best, but it’s entirely your choice, Ritsuko. Say the word, and I’ll turn around and leave you to your own means. But say the word, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you get out. There are more people who care for you than Co—"

"—Stop." Ritsuko hesitated immediately after, but there was a hint of something new in her expression, that had been completely absent until now. “Ryoji. Don’t give me that bullshit about trying. From  _you?”_

"The Fourth Child lost his leg," Kaji pressed his point home, and Ritsuko fought a grimace. Sometimes, only sometimes, Kaji had no idea how to hold a comfortable conversation, let alone read normative social cues. "His father won’t be able to afford a prosthetic, not with his little sister still in recovery."

"Well, I’m very sorry to hear that."

In reply, Kaji gripped the edges of his seat and scooted closer to her hospital bed. Ritsuko guessed that “intimidation” was the unintended effect here, though she felt its only achievement was in making him look exceptionally childish.

"Ritsuko, you’re not the only one who’s in a tight spot. Maybe it’s not the same spot, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. I can’t even promise I can get out, myself. But it doesn’t hurt to try. You might find that to be a good place to start."

Translation:  _“I’m not sure if you’re really a monster yet, so I’m putting on the airs by providing you a friendly offer instead. I’m also a hypocrite, so I can’t tell you how much I hated the way you handled Jet Alone. Remember, I put Misato at risk to ensure Commander Ikari gets whatever he wants, too. And I’m even referring to you on a full first-name basis. So please regard my posturing favorably, okay?”_

He waited.

Ritsuko’s sighed, the sound carrying easily across the deathly silent hospital room. There was something else underneath the sound, not an outright rejection of Kaji’s advice, not an unwilling compliance of sorts, but a confirmation that seemed to relay her original point home:  _This is futile, but I’ll humor the endeavor anyway._

As if someone flicked a switch, Kaji offered an understanding smile, to show that her point was received loud and clear, and that no offense was taken despite of it. Ritsuko found that she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“If you can manage it, why don’t we go see how Katsuragi’s doing?”


	12. Chapter 12

You’re really starting to piss me off. 

Why does it feel like I’m the only one fighting for him? 

Where were you? Up on the bridge, with your hands safe in your labcoat? You didn’t wrap him up in your arms after he was fighting a near-hopeless battle for his own life. The one time that you and your science and methodologies could have been useful, and you failed him! 

Where the hell were you? Where did you go, and why?! 


	13. Chapter 13

** Tokyo-2 University Campus Apartments, Nagano Prefecture, December 3rd, 2006 **

_"Wait — so you mean to tell me you’ve never slept in someone’s bed before?"_

She hadn’t.

The opportunity had never… presented itself before.

For years, every moment of Ritsuko’s life had been occupied with issues either related to school or her mother’s various professional ventures. And she had worked well like that – extremely well, in fact. Yet, all of a sudden, The Second Impact happened, her mother had grown increasingly distant, she was living alone, and…

…and she found herself spooned right in between Misato and Ryoji on their dinky apartment futon. Shifting uncomfortably, Ritsuko let her sapped body settle deeper in the bed. How long had it been since she’d been able to look forward to a full night’s sleep? Even after the Impact – at home and beyond – there had always been something to push her forward. A few hours of sleep were an acceptable sacrifice, if it meant finding her professional footing that much faster. And after she had gone to college, the need to stay ahead of anyone who might try to surpass her had only exaggerated the situation that much further.

But now?

She’d fallen behind on her studies, and had succeeded only in passing her classes with marginal honors. She  _hadn’t_  been thoroughly reprimanded by her mother, who hardly seemed like she noticed, or cared…

But now?

In response to her movement, Misato also shifted slightly, her body tightly nestled within the curve of Ritsuko’s own. Certainly all but insubstantial as far as the sense of touch was concerned. Even now, Ritsuko could easily feel the rhythmic inhale and exhale of Misato’s breathing, and even make out Ryoji’s heartbeat from her back. Despite the electrical fan and thin blanket, the body heat being exchanged between all three of them was hot enough to make her perspire.

Normally, it was hardly what Ritsuko would call an enjoyable experience. Neither was Ryoji coughing against the crook of her shoulder, either – with such hoarseness that only brought the phrase “imminent chronic bronchitis” to mind – but now?

Now, Ritsuko wouldn’t have had it any other way. She’d read stories of people who’ve known each other for so long they turned into strangers, as to represent the old adage  _proximity breeds contempt_. She wondered if those people realized how much further they could go. She wondered if those people had ever tried sleeping together. She wondered if those people had ever counted the number of pulses against their back, or totaled the amount of breaths until they couldn’t keep their eyes open.

Perhaps college was nothing but an afterthought in the greater scheme of things. Perhaps all her goals were for naught. Perhaps her very existence was a failure beyond redemption in the eyes of her mother. But that much, she could still do…

…Someone was jerking forward. Ritsuko’s eyes flew open to gaze upwards at Misato, who had jack-knifed into a sitting position, blinking muzzily at the blue shadows dancing against her trembling limbs.

"I don’t — I — feel kinda funny." Tumbled and slurred from her mouth, like thick, dark molasses. "Like after one too many drinks or something. The ‘use by’ date on those pills…"

Ritsuko fought the exhaustion pulling on her eyelids, even as she registered Kaji stirring behind her. “…Misato, didn’t you just buy those?”

Misato’s breaths were coming out in slow, shallow gasps that seemed to punctuate the room. “I don’t feel good,” she repeated, swallowing several times against the desert of her throat.

Hands in different sizes flew in succession – first Ritsuko’s to Misato’s chest, feeling the four-valved thrumming of her heartbeat – and then Kaji’s, reaching over to brush Misato’s bangs back from her hot forehead. Misato sat and stared back blankly, idly processing the mad staccato hammerings of her pulse as two pairs of eyes shifted from left to right, assaying her pupils. Each one of their gazes reflected a little more than clinical concern over her reaction, and every endless second drew a deeper flush from the blood vessels in her face.

"How many pills did you take, Misato?"

"Mm… two? I don’t really remember…"

"Did you have a drink before you went to bed, Katsuragi?"

"Maybe… maybe I had one can of beer, but that’s all… I think…"

"A can of beer? Misato, what were you—  _Aaugh!!”_

At which point all clinical concern instantly evaporated, stomped senseless as Misato puked over everything.

Gross didn’t even begin cover it. It was even more disgusting than that  _thing_  Ritsuko’s mother had brought home from the lab that one time in junior high. Way grosser. On a graduated scale of grossness, this was pretty close to grosser than most gross things, and coming from her, that was certainly saying something.

Automatic, hard-wired reflexes triggered instantaneously as Ritsuko scrambled off the soiled futon, softly swearing in between harsh breaths. She couldn’t believe Ryoji remained where he was seated. Ritsuko didn’t know what possessed him to casually  _flick_  Misato’s corporeal nausea off his arm, until – oh, wait, she  _did_  know what possessed him. 

Ritsuko’s internal dissertation on the gradients of grossness, as well as her silent promise to swear off sleepovers forever, abruptly screeched to a halt as Misato met her gaze with placated, heavy-lidded eyes, and—

"Phew… I feel  _much_  better.”

—It was probably more than one beer. In fact, Misato probably wouldn’t have the mind to be adequately embarrassed over the whole ordeal until morning. In the meantime, however, Ritsuko stared openly at Kaji, her own expression trying to convey that she would have liked nothing better than to give Fate a nuclear enema in thanks for what had just happened.

"So… wild night, huh?" Kaji intoned as she began backing into the bathroom with slow, shaky steps. In a fair and just universe, Ritsuko strongly felt, people shouldn’t be allowed to sound so goddamn  _casual_  under these circumstances. “Really, who needs a threesome when you have Katsuragi? Oh, Rit-chan, can you grab some towels while you’re at it?”


	14. Chapter 14

Ritsuko’s afraid of an enlightened Misato Katsuragi. 

For good reason. It’s convenient, comfortable, to keep her in the dark 

Everyone has an incentive in this game to maintain this neat little facade, for their own sakes. 

Even myself. But this life is exhausting, day in and day out 

This is not a means to survive. And I’ve been starting to listen to the part of me 

that wants to see Katsuragi gut this place from the inside out. 

Maybe her anger can compensate for our weaknesses. 


	15. Chapter 15

** Shibuya Bar, November 21th, 2015 **

By virtue of being an inanimate object, booze couldn’t wish her a Happy Birthday. And no amount of booze on the planet could numb the effects of The Soul Salvage Operation on their immediate thoughts.

Apparently, the simple fact that NERV was working on bringing Shinji back was validation of his existence in and of itself, since his non-existence would have made them incapable of trying in the first place. It was the kind of logic that worked for Misato, who was quite possibly the most square-shooting, blindly pragmatic, un-mystical, and straightforward person in the entirety of NERV. Ritsuko was certain; any god who descended from Heaven to announce their ethereal glory to Major Katsuragi Misato would have to have a really good sales pitch. And they’d have to invite a second, previously verified god, in order to provide a basis of comparison for their claims of divinity. And they’d probably be job-hunting by the end of the month, if only to pay for their room and board.

It was the kind of approach that made an atheist feel like a tenderfoot. It was also the kind of approach that tended to bury its head in the sand at any mention of hard facts and probability indicators, to the frustration of everyone in the Bureau of Technology’s First Division.

Herself included.

“It’d be presumptuous to call this project anything other than what it really is: a game of chance.”

Wincing as her vision struggled to readjust itself, Misato tried to focus on the center of her liquor glass, where Kaji’s and Ritsuko’s reflections were coalescing into one grotesque, distorted form. Ritsuko was talking about the Operation, but she couldn’t listen. She couldn’t. Ritsuko’s words became a slur, drowned out by the buzzing of indomitability lacing her internals. She was seated in the middle of the two, Ritsuko and her on their fourth or fifth drink, Kaji still nursing his first.

_God, her head hurt—_

"Nothing is ever guaranteed, but failure is more than likely. And if I were you, Misato, I’d start making contingency plans in case Shinji-kun’s room becomes another empty spare."

_—Fullstop._

Misato’s fingers whitened as she clenched her fists. “How  _dare_  you…”

For her part, Ritsuko appeared exceptionally self-satisfied over the current discussion. “You’re the last person to be accusing anyone—”

"—That’s not what you said when—"

"—I told you—"

"—And I told you that if…" Abruptly, Misato’s voice weakened, her face taking on a genuinely shocked expression. "Ritsuko… what happened to you?"

It wasn’t a rhetorical question, the tone of her voice told that much. But even Ritsuko’s face registered brief confusion as Misato leaned forward in her seat, staring incredulously as though she’d never seen Ritsuko before in her life.

"What – what are you talking about? You’re drunk, Misato."

“ _What happened to you?!?_ " Misato demanded, her voice shrill as she slammed her glass down, hitting the table like it had gained ten pounds.

For his part, Kaji simply weathered Misato’s outburst like a stone. No wince – no physical reaction that indicated he heard anything at all. He seemed content in playing the part of the silent and unobtrusive bystander, fixing the wall with a hard poker face, the grip on his own glass oscillating between soft and firm. It certainly didn’t look like he had any intention of doing anything to diffuse the tension.

In fact, by the time he straightened back into his seat, the present conversation had turned from ‘angry’ to ‘enraged’ in the blink of an eye, with a definite option on ‘physical’ if things didn’t settle down.

"Are you even LISTENING to yourself!?!" Ritsuko snapped, any pretense at calmness having vanished twenty seconds ago. "Who in this world gave YOU the authority to bypass orders from Commander Ikari!?!"

"This is different! You know that!!"

 _Now_  this was becoming a matter of issue, considering Kaji could feel a few curious glances boring into his back. He was well accustomed to stares. People were watching him constantly for as long as he could remember, especially when they thought he wasn’t looking. His voice both parts tired and rough, he shifted his gaze from the wall.

"Katsuragi…"

"Don’t be foolish, Misato—"

"Rit-chan…"

"Shut up! If you’re not committed to saving Shinji-kun, then what’s the point? Just leave, then! In fact, I’ll take you out myself!!"

“ _Katsuragi!”_

"What!?" The expression on Misato’s face could have melted stone, even as she pointedly turned away from Ritsuko to glare at Kaji. "What’s it matter to  _you_ , anyway? You weren’t even there! You don’t know anything about what happened!”

Unable to keep her reactions in check, Ritsuko gave a mocking, derisive snort from under her breath.  _ **You**  don’t know anything, Misato. You never did, all these years. You don’t know Commander Ikari, his machinations. You don’t know about The Final Messenger. You don’t know this is all going to end one way –  **his**  way – whether  **you**  like it or not. What do you know? About us? About Ryoji? You don’t even know that he killed his own brother!_ Ritsuko took a swing of her drink before turning to look at Kaji from the corner of her periphery, her temper beginning to resurface in earnest to find that he was still –  _still_ – sporting that feigned, overdone, stonewall of a face. With more than a healthy serving of booze-induced indignation, Ritsuko realized that she’d never once seen him legitimately furious in her entire life.

That pissed her off.

How could someone immerse themselves so fully in all the debauchery that had become a staple of her everyday life, yet behave so  _passive_? It wasn’t a part of his act, of that much she was certain. Had Ritsuko broken all her promises eight years ago, she was certain he would have upped and dropped out of their lives without so much as a word of anger or maliciousness. His entire demeanor told her time and time again that the desire to avoid conflict was as natural to him as breathing.

And to have the nerve to  _lecture_  her on the scruples of  _trying_ , when they both knew it was only a matter of time before he would quit on life for good? It was presumptuous. It was out of line. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It made no more sense than a person growing fat by starving themselves, yet Kaji had somehow made it work for him. And meanwhile, here she was…

Ritsuko averted her gaze with a heated exhale from her nostrils. If the blame was in part due to the alcohol, she didn’t know. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

At least, not before it was much too late.

"Misato, you don’t have the faintest idea of what you’re talking about. I can understand if you’ve been denied the luxury – I’ve had a hand in ensuring that, myself – but you’re much too  _ignorant_  to speak on what we know or don’t know. Everything – everything that’s led up to this – Ryoji and I have enabled ourselves! Why stop at the Angels, Misato? Take your damned warmongering out on  _us_  instead!!”

For the shortest span of a moment, Ritsuko she thought it a pity she hadn’t elaborated even further. And for the briefest moment, she felt  _okay_. But the way the alcohol flush on Misato’s cheeks dissipated as she paled a sheen of white, even as her jaw dropped in the shape of an near-perfect ‘O’, even as she met Ritsuko’s glare weight for weight, brought with it a shiver of guilt that coursed through her blood.

Ritsuko had expected – wanted – Misato’s anger to intimidate her, her sheer rage to overpower her, scare her,  _slap her_ , force her to answer for her crimes and show penitence. She wanted to see her pull her gun from her jacket and point it at her face. Yes, Misato would kill her on her birthday. Without so much as off-lining an optic. Shoot a hole right through her face without a second thought.

_Her._

Kill  _her._

She didn’t need anyone to help her get out. No. For once, Ritsuko Akagi needed someone to punish her.

Her mother never did it. Kaji wouldn’t do it. But Misato – Misato was made of tougher stuff. Her life was scarred and battered, but she was built for righteous anger, engineered to take a beating and keep going. But the silence in lieu of the storm, Ritsuko loathed. She would have expected as much from Ikari, from her mother, but not Misato. Never Misato. And as for Ryoji…

…a smile. A strained, newly-emerging one, completely at odds with the rest of his face, but a smile nonetheless.

_Idiot._

"In vino veritas," Kaji said in soft – if not somewhat butchered – Latin. And then he stood up and and made his hasty leave, taking any piddling chances of reconciliation with him.

Without saying so much as another word in farewell.

_**Idiot**. What an idiot. Look – he even left his damn jacket on the table._

Ritsuko didn’t need to look back to see the silent, angry tears that were streaming down Misato’s face. And she didn’t look back as she took her own leave, only to follow suit in the privacy of her car.


	16. Chapter 16

Of course I knew where the body was. Section Two is exceptionally fastidious when it comes to these things, and they had all the more reason to haste with The U.N breathing down our necks, wondering why he had disappeared from the face of the Earth. If they got to the body before we did, they most certainly would have used it as public ammunition against NERV. As for SEELE… they wanted us to find it. Rub salt in Ikari’s wounds. It was a warning. A lesson. An example to us all. They had drawn their line in the sand and shown us what would happen to those who dared cross it. 

I did look. He was bagged in several layers of embalming plastic, but I could still see… the smile on his face. His hairtie was missing. His shirt and pants were unclean and his eyes were open and vacant. 

Against my better judgement, I called her asking if she wanted to see him one last time. I assumed seeing him like this would be preferable to never seeing him at all. 

She hung up. 


	17. Chapter 17

**???, ??? **

_**My turn, Ryoji. Misato.** _

Pain was a common denominator of many of the recent events in Ritsuko’s life, but the physical variety was considerably more rare. And as it turns out, much harder to ignore.

_Closer._

Nothing had been able to knock her off her feet, let alone have her flying six feet back. Flying. Her entire body was in air, flooding her system with a cocktail of adrenaline. She could hear her heart pounding like a jackhammer, still trying to accommodate her attempts at breathing. Even Lilith’s reflection was glaring to her dilated pupils. Everything seemed unnaturally bright.

_Closer._

The pain intensified right then, as though directly fueled by her anger. Anger at his offering of mercy, as though assuming that she would even consider accepting. Anger at his lie, as though she didn’t warrant the truth. Anger that he would actually have the luxury of making such a choice against her. Anger at his placid expression as he talked to her, as though addressing a petulant child. Anger at the situation that had developed with him. Anger towards Mother. Rei. Misato. Kaji. Anger at her own sloppiness for underestimating human nature. Anger at her inability to change. Change for the better.

_Closer._

The water was there to catch her – eventually – but not before she experienced the sensation of having the air driven from her lungs, her back being scoured by a stinging slap as she went under. And of course, Rei. Rei.  _Rei. Rei. **Rei. Rei?**_

_Closer._

The water made it near impossible to hear. Or breathe. Anger quickly gave way to panic. Rei?

_Closer._

She was so afraid. What did Rei say? She wanted to ask, but her mouth was so full. Help her hear.

_Closer._

"Is it time to face the ocean?"

_Closer._

_Closer._

_Closer._

**_Yes. It’s time._ **

****** **


	18. Chapter 18

“Closer.”

“Closer.”

“Ok, this is as good as it gets. Ow, not so hard on the hand.”

Misato exhaled, though not out of exhaustion. “Dammit,” she muttered, glancing over her shoulder on quivering knees. The shore was hardly three meters away.

"The same as usual." Ritsuko observed from where she was treading a meter ways ahead. "With some effort, you can get to waist level, but you still have difficulty going beyond that."

"I know," Misato admitted, her hand finding Kaji’s once more. At least she hadn’t pissed herself – though if her heart rate was any indication, that particular disaster wasn’t totally off the table just yet. All things considered, Misato would much rather piss herself in front of Kaji and Ritsuko than step a centimeter further into the sea. "But why?"

"That’s hard to say. It may simply be a matter of more practice."

"I’ve been doing this every three days for three weeks."

"That  _is_  true…”

A sigh, this time from Kaji’s end. “Maybe you have just have to accept that no matter how hard you try, you won’t get any better, Katsuragi.”

Insert: two accusing looks. Kaji blinked twice and backtracked in record time.

“—Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying you won’t get any better  _ever_. I’m just saying, maybe now’s not the time to tackle the ocean right now. Right, Rit-chan?”

Ritsuko’s tone was equal parts thoughtful and sympathetic as she gave Kaji’s words some heavy consideration. “He might be right. You don’t seem to be in any rush to improve,” Her comment was perfectly timed, in that it happened just as Misato was making a beeline out of the water, where a chilled beer bottle was waiting for her in the cooler on the shore. “It’d be ludicrous to think you can fight all your fears at once. Maybe time is all you need.”

“Ex _actly_ ,” spoken with far too little discouragement, and far too much relief as Misato plopped herself down on the sand. “The ocean isn’t going anywhere, right? And we have all the time in the world. Besides…” Misato continued on matter-of-factly, the unmistaken pop of an freshly-opened beer bottle punctuating her words.

“I know you two will be there to help me sort it out when I’m ready.”


	19. Chapter 19

"–Oh God, oh God, help me. I can’t–"

** THE SEA OF LIFE **

"–No! Listen! Listen to me right now. You’re okay. Just keep moving forward–"

** PRIMORDIAL SOUP **

"–I can’t – I can’t, I want to go back–"

** REBIRTH **

"–Stop it!! Yes, yes you can! You’re doing it right now! Just keep your eyes forward–"

** THE FORCE OF CHANGE **

"–Right! You’re okay. You’re with us. You’re okay. We’re okay. Just take another step. You’re here,  _here_ , hold on  _here_ –”

** THE FORCE OF THE STATUS QUO **

"–Oh… God. No. No! That’s… Rei’s! I can’t, I can’t look! I can’t do it, I can’t – please–"

** THE TIME HAS COME **

"–You don’t have to. Don’t look if you don’t want to. Just, there! That’s good! Keep holding on–"

**ARE YOU READY?**

"–We’re so close. Close your eyes if you have to, but we’re close! You’ve made it this far–"

"–I’m glad – I’m so glad, I’m so glad, you two…"

 

* * *

 

_I know you tried your best._ _I tried to delude myself, but sooner or later I figured out that you didn’t like it… didn’t like this life you were living. But, that’s okay. I never said so, because I still have trouble finding my voice sometimes. I didn’t like it, either. And now I know – know that you didn’t like it, too._

_Yes, it’s true. None of us did. And I apologize. Things could have turned out okay, if only we were strong enough to see._

_After all this is said and done, where will you go?_

_Me?_

_I’d like to know, as well._

_Why – why does it matter to you two?_

_Because that’s where we’ll go, too._


End file.
